


Remember Before Then?

by PockeyTheAnaLogicalLoveChild



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Bombings, Comfort, Depression, First Time, Fluff, Guilt, Heavy Angst, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Near Death, Post-War, Some of these tags are coming in later chapters, Some smut near middle of work, Tfw you join a fandom late, ameripan - Freeform, slow burn like rlly slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-04-16 10:22:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PockeyTheAnaLogicalLoveChild/pseuds/PockeyTheAnaLogicalLoveChild
Summary: America is unaware of the impact he had on Japan after Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 until he sees it first hand. The guilt is too much for him to bear and so he tries to fix his broken bonds with the island nation the best he can while maintaining his own level head while also trying to hide the truth from the other countries.Soon, as time heals the wounds he created, he sees his relationship with Japan develop~





	1. Post-War Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few severe anxiety attacks, Alfred decides to finally confront the root of his feelings. Seeing Japan after the war may have been the only way for him to finally rest easy. Meanwhile, the other allies were trying to figure what was wrong with their American friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work. I only just got into the Hetalia fandom (ikr pray for me ;-;) but I really wanted to write about this since I could see that no one had? I don't know how long it will be but I guess I'll just go with the flow. I have an outline for each chapter so I just hope that I can keep up, hahah!
> 
> Please give me any feedback or improvements; they're all appreciated! :D
> 
> Also, I'm free to small suggestions (that don't change the plotline of course.) c;

It was 1945.

He could remember that single day clearly.

Every sound; each scream and cry that was shed.

Every sight. The metallic taste on his lips and the sting in his eyes from the ash burning from concrete and flesh were forever stimulating his anxiety and nerves in the back of his mind. At every waking moment, all he could think about was that day. That one moment.

And then worst of all. _Him_. Him being the small, raven-haired Asian nation who that day, that damned day, stood metres from him. Both of the men heels deep in the Japanese soil; both faces bloodied and well beaten from a long battle between the two of them. Alfred could remember in perfect detail the way Japan looked in that moment. His hair was uncharacteristically roughed up and dirty while his face was covered in bruises and marks. The Asian's white suit, which usually was pristine with little no creases or stains, was battered from top to toe and dripping with mud and blood. Though clearly hurting, Japan was still standing and refusing to back down; with one hand, he held his katana, shaking from the intense pain of many broken bones in his arm. Meanwhile, Alfred wasn't doing too well either, or at least, that's how he remembers it. His blond hair was too messed up. His army wear was worn and ripping at the scene and his face was just as, if not, more bruised than the man who stood before him. Through his fogged glasses, he could see a pair of marron eyes piercing into him with a solid glare. Even though Japan's body was clearly beaten up and about to collapse in on itself, his sharp stare told a different story. There was a burning passion; a fiery glow embedded in the pupils of the island nation.

They said he wasn't giving up, not yet. They said he wasn't ready to yield; he wanted his victory then and there.

_Japan wasn't surrendering. He just wasn't going to and I knew that all too well from the way he stared me down that day. The hate, the fury in his eyes were enough of an indication that I should ha- No. I needed to do what I did that day. I... needed to._

Alfred replayed that thought in his head over and over again. He needed to constantly remind himself that what he did was right. That it was a must for the better of everyone. He's a hero, _right?_ He couldn't bear to rethink of that moment without convincing himself that it was the only thing he could do in his situation.

_Japan was out of control. I needed to stop him immediately or else he could've-_

Alfred turned to face in the opposite direction of his foe, slightly smiling as he did. The Asian behind him loosened a bit when not in the gaze of his enemy but was annoyed all the same that Alfred didn't seem to be taking the battle seriously enough. Was it because he knew he was soon to surrender? The thought allowed Japan to feel a little bit more at ease as he slid his katana back into place in its scabbard. There was a moment of silence between the two of them and the atmosphere only got thick with tension and unsaid words that couldn't escape the mouths of the two men but were still present all the same. _What are you waiting for? Do you accept defeat? Is this finally your surrender?_ Japan took a couple of steps forwards before suddenly coming to a halt when America begins to chuckle.

The Japanese man felt his eyelids close slightly as he tilts his head and says, "America, what is so funny to you?" Alfred carries on chuckling for a while before finally turning around and replying,

"Sorry dude. I just- heh- I really think you should have considered surrendering a long time ago." Japan stares at him blankly, trying to read his expression as America turned his whole body to face him once more, "I wish it didn't have to come down to this but, a hero's gotta do what a hero's gotta do, amirite?"

"What do you mea-?" Japan's enquiry is cut short by a blinding light that cast a dark silhouette of the blond's body upon him. He freezes in a horrified gasp as the realisation fully engulfed his mind in a blind panic.

"Boom." Alfred clicked his fingers into a gun shape and smirked with a wink. And that was it. When the first atomic bomb hit, Japan's body began to seize all over, his silent screams getting lost in the sound of the deafening explosion. He fell to the ground in an instant, his back curling as he clawed at the earth and cried out. The blast lasted about twenty seconds, each moment feeling twice as long as the former. The agony was painted onto the small Asian's face as his skin ripped and cut and blood flew out the back of each wound. Alfred, however, stood there in what once was pride. That was it. That was all it was going to take for Japan's surrender and it was true. The island nation surrendered about a month later and left America with his chin held high and an ego that not even Arthur would be able to knock down for weeks - or so he thought.

**A month after the bombings**

" --amn it! America, stop wasting our bloody time and say something before you're skipped!" Alfred could feel himself snap back into reality. He lifted his head off of the cold surface of the meeting table and blinked a couple of times before realising what was going on. 

_Oh God. I'm at an allies meeting, right?_

He forces himself to sit up, his back aching from laying on the table for such an uncomfortably long amount of time. He lets a tiny yawn slip from his mouth before adjusting his glasses and looking around the room. Sure enough, he was in Arthur's home; the dull decor and lingering smell of breakfast tea were enough of an indication for him to know exactly where he was. He scans around the room, attempting to jog his memory of what the hell these losers were talking about. Next to him were Russia, China and on the other side France and a very pissed-off looking England. Alfred then turns his attention to the men sitting across from him. Germany, his arms crossed and his gaze set on the cup of tea in front of him and Italy, crying about the lack of good food in the area while waving a mini, white flag with intense vigour.

_The Axis Powers?_ Alfred thought to himself, _What the hell are they doing here...? Unless. Oh no- They're here to sign a peac-_

____

"AHEM." The American's train of thought was cut short by England. The Brit snapped his fingers in Alfred's direction before crossing his arms and spitting out, "Well are you going to answer the damn question or not?" Alfred blinked a couple of times then opened his mouth, hesitated and closing it again. England sighed, "Why do I even bother?"

____

"Oh oh!" China stood up, flailing his right arm in the air, "I have a good idea since America doesn't want to speak, aru."

____

"Well go on then," England's voice was a little less cold now, "What is it?" He leaned on his elbow, bored, as he waited for China's response.

____

China began, full of an enthusiasm that made the Axis' spines chill, "So-so I think that we-" 

"Before you suggest anything, can I just say that I've already had to pay quite a lot of money in the past for a var like this to France. Please think about that before saying vhatever it is that you vish to say." Germany interrupts before giving China the chance to say what he wanted.

____

"Mhm! I agree! Plus, really don't want to be stuck making CooKoo clocks at Germany's house again! There was no pasta (though the food did still taste better than England's) and PLEASE JUST DON'T!" Italy joins in, crying while waving more white flags that he managed to.. just make appear?

____

"Hey! I didn't even get to speaking, aru!" China slammed his hands on the table, facing the Axis countries.

"What was that you said about English food?" England starts, getting up from his chair with his fists clenched,

"Aw don't be a crybaby, dear Arthur. He was only speaking the truth.." France accidentally lets slip, grabbing the attention of the angry Brit.

"OH! I'll show you a crybaby, you wanker!" England was on France faster than Italy on a pretty lady. Soon, the entire assembly was full of fighting nations and insults flying back and forth. America, who would usually be quick to join in on insulting his older brother, instead sat that there in his own little ball of conflict, thoughts spewing around his mind as the others bickered and kicked around.

"Please don't hit my face! White flag see? White fla-ha-haaaaaag..!!" Italy screamed as Russia beat him up with one his very own white flags.

 _Maybe if I leave now, I can avoid whatever comes up next in the meeting._ Alfred could feel himself building up a cold sweat. It was as if there was a large weight bearing down on his back and nape, making it difficult for him to breathe. The blond felt his mouth go dry and began to shake his head. He just wanted to shake away this feeling. What was it called again? He couldn't remember; thinking was hard at that moment.

_Just stand up and leave. Why won't you just move legs? Oh come on!_

All he could think, feel, was the sickening feeling of something pulling him deep into a pit of despair. It filled his lungs, veins, mind. Soon, he felt as if his entire body was being absorbed by this emotion. Soon- he felt something latch onto him, something deep within him. It grew and spasm within his crumbling mind and filled every space of the room, leaving Alfred alone to sit in the room filled with it. He grabbed his hair, shaking his head more violently now. He squeezed his eyes shut and every tear that fell down his cheek left a painful sting in his eyes.

"No no no-" Each sound released from between his clenched teeth forced him to gasp for more air as the feeling around his ribs tightened. "Why- Why do I feel this way DAMN IT!" His quiet murmurs had become full-blown sobs and caught the attention of everyone in the room. When Alfred looked back up, he realised that he wasn't alone. Everyone was still here. The walls weren't closing in. He could breathe just fine. Then, what just happened?

*** * ***

After Alfred's apparent panic attack, Arthur decided it would be best if the meeting got postponed until a week later (which was probably a good idea considering the most they got done was deciding whether British food was actually as bad as the others made it out to be). After a few hours of laying on a chaise lounge with a moist flannel to his temple, the American decided to finally sit up, just in time for Arthur to walk in, holding a tray with two teacups and a pot of brewing tea. Alfred watched as the Brit slowly set the tray down on the coffee table before him then turned his full attention to him.

"Tea?" Arthur offered gingerly turning away to pour him a cup before even hearing his response. When he looked back, he held out the porcelain cup to Alfred on a small, matching saucer. With a half smile, he grabbed a hold of the saucer and began blowing on the tea to cool it down to a drinkable temperature. Meanwhile, Arthur was making himself comfortable on an adjacent lounger, crossing his legs with his own cup of tea in his hand, turning his head to face the unusually quiet American.

"So America," England started, removing the cup from his lips after a healthy gulp of tea, "I can tell something is bothering you. A panic attack? In a meeting? That's not like you at all." Alfred chose to remain silent, staring into the murky browns of the tea, getting lost in its colour as he swayed about the teacup. The only sound that made it into the air between the two of them was the sound of the grandfather clock ticking behind Al's seat. "Oh dear God, something's clearly wrong and I want the truth pronto-!". Alfred looked up from the pool of brown and met himself at a new pool; a pool full of a deep shamrock green that invited his stay. He feared to lock a gaze with Arthur as he knew that he'd be able to read him like a kid's book. It was something that developed in the Brit for a while after having to take care of a mini Alfred once. Soon, the clock struck twelve and England decided to use that as a chance to get America to spill. His eyes burrowed the message _"You have until that clock has finished chiming to tell me what's wrong"_ into Al's and made the American's brow furrow.

**One chime, a second, a third**

Alfred still wasn't talking. He knew what was bothering him; it had been for the past month but he just couldn't say. Instead, all he could do was stare back at Arthur and hope that he'd give in and allow him to keep to himself. Obviously, he knew Arthur wasn't like that.

**There went the fourth chime, then the fifth**

"Still not talking?" Alfred could feel the stress in Arthur's voice. He couldn't understand why he was so desperate to find out what was bothering him. Was his panic attack really that concerning? Alfred felt himself subconsciously mouth his thoughts, which was able to catch the attention of the sharp-eyed Brit. Sighing, England leant back into the soft cushion of the couch, taking a sip from the now much colder cup of tea. 

**Sixth chime, a seventh then the eight**

Alfred could feel the tension rising; he didn't want to see what would happen if he kept silent but- Something, some sort of force, a feeling? It was stopping him from expressing what he was thinking as if it caged his throat and allowed his lips to move but not the actual sound of his words. He was overthinking things; he knew it. He just couldn't- he didn't even fully know what was making him feel this way. Every thought he had, every time he spoke, moved even, it felt skewed. He felt himself begin to tremble slightly and so took his attention onto the porcelain cup that Arthur was currently sipping his breakfast tea out of- trying to calm himself down. Noticing this, Arthur prolonged his drink just to make sure that that was where Alfred’s gaze laid.

"It's a rather dashing, little set, isn't it?" Arthur finally drew the cup from his lips, looking into the tea that sat inside.

**The ninth and tenth chime came shortly after**

"Heh, sure is, Iggy! Hey, how about you hit me up with a set sometime, ay?" Alfred thought that his forced smile was enough to lower England's guard. He slowly looked up and his eyes met, once again, with his elder brother's.

"Well, if really want, I can-"

**The eleventh chime**

"...Simply ask Japan for you." Arthur smiled as he slightly lifted the teacup from its saucer in a toasting sort of movement. Alfred felt the heat rush to his head, his mouth quivering at the sound of his name. _His name._ In the heat of the moment, he could feel his pulse begin to quicken and his chest tighten.

_His name_

Soon, he could feel himself back in that same scene that took place a month ago. He could hear every sound; smell everything he once did. See the destruction he'd caused. The same scene that had repeated itself during his dreams, during each waking moment of the day- every day- since that day. And those eyes. Those dark brown, Asian eyes that pierced the back of his mind and set there till that very day. He could feel himself begin to unwind. Just at the mention of _his_ name. All the memories were flooding back.

It was painful.

**The final chime struck**

It was the clang of Arthur’s china teacup onto the coffee table that stopped Alfred from leading himself into another anxiety attack. He then felt the warm embrace of the Brit around him, his arms encasing him over the chaise lounge. Feeling a little calmer at the touch, Alfred buried his head into his brother's shoulder and let his tears form in a small pool on his green jacket.

"You're hot." Arthur finally broke the silence, "Are you sure you're feeling fine? You seem to have a temperature." He repulsed from the hug to get a good look at Alfred. The American's eyes were slightly red and puffed up from the sudden tears he shed and his face was flushed. He looked like a wreck but Arthur could appreciate that he wasn't feeling his best that day and so decided to spare him any more questions.

Alfred was eventually taken to one of the guests' rooms to spend the night and calm down. As he reached the door, he hesitated on the handle. It was familiar. He knew he'd been in that room before, maybe once or twice. He opened the door to find a bed in the middle of the room with a couple of bedside tables and a few boxes spread around. A nostalgic feeling rushed through him as he took his initial steps into the antique room. This was his once; he remembers it clearly. He smiled at the memory of him owning this room before as he prepared himself for bed. As he removed his jacket, then shirt, he caught himself in the mirror next to the door to the bathroom. His skin was indeed bright red, nearly as red as the stripes on his flag. His forehead was damp with sweat and many of his hairs were stuck to it, even after removing his top. After gazing at his reflection for a while, Alfred decided it would be best if he just headed to bed. His head was spinning from all the crying he did that day, which at this point, wasn't very foreign to him.

He threw himself into the mattress and allowed himself to be absorbed by the fabric around him, slowly falling into a deep slumber. He usually feared to go to bed at times like these, but right there, in his old room, he felt safe for once.

*** * ***

_Japan-? What are you doing here?_

It was dark, pitch-black even. Yet, he was still completely visible. Japan stood a few metres from Alfred, a bit like on that day in 1945. Except, this time, Japan was facing away from him. His clothes were torn; his skin was bloodied and bruised; his entire body was quivering. It was just the two of them. A trembling, short Asian and the blond American country. Just like before, they stood metres apart. Alfred, after seeing the state that Japan was in, decided to check himself as well - as if he was a third-party viewing the scene, he could scan himself from eyes other than his own. He looked, unlike the raven-haired man in front of him, perfectly intact. His hair was neatly combed and his glasses, perfectly clear. The ocean blue that shone from within his eyes were just two of the clear indications that he was feeling perfectly fine. And on his body, he wore a spotless suit; one very familiar to him.

_The suit Arthur gave me. The one I'd only wear on special occasions- This-this is a special occasio-?_

His thoughts were cut short by the sudden weeps coming from the man opposite him. He genuinely sounded sad, which was enough to shock Alfred into flinching. He took a few steps forward and slightly stretched out his arm towards Japan.

"Japan? Dude? A-are you okay?" He knew he wasn't.

"Why did you do it?" Japan's head turned slightly, so the side of his eye was only just about visible. The sudden voice from the small country had America quite startled. He hadn't heard him speak in so long- Hearing his voice was sort of relieving, but then again, only made Alfred feel worse.

"I-I didn't hurt you, did I?" Alfred's question was so genuine that it caused Japan to chuckle a bit through his tears; chuckle at how naïve Alfred was being.. or at least pretending to be.

Alfred continued, "Please Japan- talk to me! We're homies, right? Homies can talk to each oth-!"

"THEN WHY DID YOU RELEASE THE ATOMIC BOMB ON MY PEOPLE?" Japan screamed as he turned to fully face Alfred, still trembling as he did. The sight. The way the Asian looked at him was enough to scar him for years. He looked so full of hate and that sent chills down Alfred's spine. He could feel his heartbeat quickening as their eyes met with that signature scowl that inked itself perfectly into his mind. "You HURT them all just like you hurt me!" Japan's voice echoed through the dark room.

"NO. I had to. I-I'm the hero! It had to be done." America brought his palms to his ears and sank to his knees as he tried to block out the sound of Japan's voice, "Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!"

____

____

Alfred woke up screaming. The sudden jump from his awakening forced him upwards into one of the four posts on his bed, making him hit his nose painfully.

_It was just a dream.. Only a dream._

"Ah- damn." He tried to whisper, but it came out louder than expected. He took the corner of his duvet and used that to wipe his bloodied nose, cursing as he did. He looked at the time on a small clock on one of the bedside tables. 12:25 am. This was surprisingly early for Alfred when it came to his sleep schedule. However, after the way he'd been feeling that month, he felt like collapsing back into bed right there and then. He would've too if it wasn't for the lingering thought of the dream he just had.

_Japan.._

He laid on top of the bed for a while, flashes of 1945 replaying in his mind. The memory of the day was enough to make his stomach turn. Why? Why couldn't he just let go of that moment? The way Japan looked at him. Why couldn't he just forget it like the others did with their enemies? It was _war_ , Japan knew what he was signing up for when he chose not surrender. He _knew_.

 _Why do I keep thinking about him, anyway? Come on, you're America! You're the hero. You don't need to dwell on an enemy from war,_ Alfred thought to himself as he stood up and stumbled to the bathroom, the duvet not doing enough to help the blood running from his nose. _Besides, Japan is a strong country. I couldn't have hurt that guy that bad... right?_. Alfred paused midway through grabbing some toilet roll to stuff his nose with. He just stood there, eyes wide at the realisation that he could've actually really hurt Japan.

"Is that why he wasn't at the meeting-" America felt jaw loosen slightly, leaving him to contemplate to himself. In an instant, he was out the bathroom with tissue up his nasal cavity and blood all over his hands. He grabbed his jacket, shirt and did up his boots. As he did, his mind was at a constant blank. He didn't want to think about what he was doing, his actions at that moment. He just wanted to see Japan, to- you know- rub his victory in his face? He knew why he was going there but he didn't want to dwell on his choices. As he finally got on his brown, leather coat, he paused to finally consider what he was doing. Earlier that day, before getting sent to his room to rest, England made it very clear that he wanted Alfred to stay. If he finds out he left in the middle of the night, to go see _Japan_ of all people, England would surely snap and worst of all, probably take out his anger on the small island nation. The thought of Arthur attacking Japan after Alfred had already nuked him made the American's stomach churn, hesitating for quite a while whilst hunched over his boots. It was only until he remembered how close Japan and he were before the war when they hung out together. When Japan stayed with him through the night when he was scared of horror movies. When Japan and he took walks around his country and told each other jokes. Japan _was_ his friend, kind of. That was all the reason to see him.

Alfred stepped out of his old bedroom, looking back at it once more before shutting its birch door with a small click. As Alfred walked down the hallways, he could hear some voices coming from the meeting room. He could make out France's sexy accent from a mile away; he heard Russia too. As he continued down, he heard China and could now make out a few phrases,

"Not only him... Japan too. I've been calling him but he isn't responding, aru." China's voice had a worried tone to it, Alfred could hear a few quivers in his voice from the distance he was at.

"Japan isn't our top priority at the moment. America is. Once we find out what's wrong with him, we can then proceed with the peace treaty." he heard England reply. Alfred froze at his sentence, realising they'd be on to him soon. If he was going to go, now would be the best time while they were distracted in their alliance meeting. He ran down to the meeting room door, snuck past, then continue to dash until he was outside of England's home. The rain was hammering down and left a smell of fresh mud lingering in the air.

_Classic England._

He shook his head, as he closed his eyes and focused on Japan, Tokyo to be exact. He felt the sensation of being transported across the world build up in him and before he knew it, his body had materialised right in the centre of a busy street in the island's capital. All the residents around him were rushing about, pushing him around as they tried to get to where they needed to go. It was 7 am at the moment for Japan and so it was bound to be rush hour in the busy city. Of course, this didn't bother Alfred much as he was used to this sort of environment every time he went to New York City. He looked around until he found a taxi bay and requested a taxi towards Japan's house. The taxi driver tensed up at the request and gave Alfred a look that showed that he couldn't tell whether he was joking or not. This worried the American. None the less, the driver agreed and drove him there, only on the terms that America paid him double though. It was a long drive but Alfred thought it was worth the wait through the whole way of the journey. If he could, he would teleport straight to Japan's house, but since it wasn't in Tokyo, its capital, he wouldn't be able to get there through his teleportation abilities. Unfortunately for him, this meant having to bear witness to the sights of the devastation that the atom bomb caused on the small island. He felt his chest tighten at every destroyed building he passed, every park he saw wiped out. He let his head fall, deciding it wasn't worth him watching outside the car window anymore. He wasn't prepared to start shedding any tears yet.

*** * ***

Alfred stood outside of Japan's house, his breathing uneasy as he took in how wrecked the Asian's home was. What used to be a serene, comfortable home with blooming blossoms and pools of fresh water for baths was now a levelled dump with dying greens and parts of torn down buildings scattered across the area. His actual house, however, wasn't as damaged as the rest of his land seemed to be. The windows were smashed and the door had many holes and seemed to be missing a large chunk of it but apart from that, the miniature bungalow seemed to be in quite a decent shape.

That's what Alfred thought, at least.

He approached the door cautiously, trying to avoid stepping on glass shards or any bits of broken stone that may have been sticking out unevenly on the path. Once he finally reached it, he took in a moment to fully take in what he saw around him. He could remember how beautiful that place used to look in one single, perfect recollection. Each pebble in the stone bed, each blooming tree whose velvet leaves would dance through the wind. He loved all of that. He didn't realise that it could all be destroyed, all gone from the use of those two bombs.

Alfred felt his pulse begin to accelerate as he entered the home through one of the holes left in the shōji and saw how damaged Japan's bungalow truly was. All the tables were upturned; the floorboards were broken; glass scattered across the area and the lights had been ripped from their wires. There was a thick smell of tar and blood that wafted through the air and seemed very concentrated in the room. It made him feel sick.

He tried to manoeuvre himself around the havoc that laid around him until his eyes finally met with a frail Japanese man sitting on a small stool near the back of the room. Upon spotting him, Alfred bit his lip and felt every muscle in his body tighten. Japan sat limply on his seat, his head turned up as it rested against the wall behind him. His eyes were slightly opened, lifeless and hollow and a thick line of blood slid down his chin and dripped onto his lap. His raven-coloured hair had turned a dark grey from all the ash particles floating about the room and his clothes were just as, if not, more tattered than the last time Alfred encountered him. The terrifying sight of him that way made the blond cry out his name as he rushed over, nearly slipping on the way, to clutch the weak Japan in his arms. As America knelt down beside him, his knee immediately sank down into a pool of blood that he had failed to notice before. As he traced the origins of the crimson liquid, he saw that it led to the left side of Japan's chest which was a deep red in contrast with the other parts of the Asian's white suit. Alfred couldn't believe what he was seeing. He wished that it was all fake, that this was just another scene appearing in his dreams from memories he wished he could forget.

But it wasn't. He was living that moment right then and there, clutching his dying foe in his arms. At the sudden feeling of Alfred's warmth against his cold skin, Japan slowly blinked twice before steadily shifting his head to look down at Alfred who was trembling beside him. He tried to move his swollen lips to say something but his throat wasn't allowing him the luxury of speaking at the moment. However, his shuffling caught the immediate attention of Alfred and his bright, admiral eyes darted straight up to meet with the faded browns of the Asian's. He squinted slightly as he tried to make out what Japan was mouthing but, after a while, couldn't bear to continue staring at his burst, bleeding lips. Instead, he got up and adjusted himself so he kneeled directly in front of the small brunette. He was still trembling, but was feeling much more at ease knowing that Japan was at least conscious.

"A-America-san?" Japan's voice was exhausted and hearing him clearly have to push himself to speak made Alfred wince, "America-s-san, is that you?". With every word that was squeezed through the Japanese man's lips, he took a deep breath. He could barely say anything without needing to gasp for air afterwards.

Alfred almost instantly replied, "Y-yeah! It's me Japan; of course, it's me." He faked a smile which made Japan slightly smile too, "I'm here, buddy. Don't worry I'm here." At the sound of the word buddy, Japan's semi-smile dropped instantly and his eyes began to run cold once more. Panicking, Alfred grabbed Japan's right hand and intertwined their fingers as he squeezed it. He couldn't begin to think properly and watching Japan begin to fall senseless once more only made him freak out more. After holding on to his hand for about three minutes, he finally let go to jump up and search the room for anything that may be valuable in helping him support Japan. Everything in the room was either broken or upturned. That just made things harder. Realising that nothing would do him good in the small home, he rushes out to find a source of running water. Anything could help at that moment.

Japan was motionless on the stool he sat on, however still responsive and able to hear all the noise going on outside from Alfred. He attempted to lift his arm to hold his head but a sharp pain shot up from his elbow to his shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain. Seeing that his arms weren't going to do much good, he uses his back as a support for him, pushing back onto the wall until he was fully sitting upright on the stool. The weight of his head on his back was excruciating and he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes - which was too, painful. As he lounged slump on his seat, his eyes drifted down towards his hands; the sight of his bloody palms and swollen fingers making him realise how damaged he was. He could barely lift a _finger_ , let alone lift his entire arm. Slowly, he turned his head up so he could see the remains of what once was his home, shaking more and more as scanned the desolate area. It wasn't much before, only a small room, but it was his and his only so it was more than enough to earn his appreciation. Now it was gone and he was left to sit in the middle of its grave. He bowed his head, the memory of what once was making his eyes tear and his chest burn. He wanted to get up and run outside to see what was left of his land as a whole but he knew his body wouldn't give in and allow him to move. Instead, he sat there and waited, eventually leaning back to lean on the wall again as he saw no point in needing to sit up anymore. He'd already seen enough.

"Ok ok-" America burst through the shōji carrying a large pail of water as he did, creating an even bigger hole then there originally was. The heavy bucket of water made it difficult for him to walk in easily so he wobbled and swayed as he made his way towards the end of the room to meet with the bleeding Japanese man. The sudden entry of Alfred surprised Japan but didn't make him jump. Instead, Japan looked up at the incoming blond and squinted, starting to put two and two together. America-san was there? Then? But- why? He could feel each question reverberate around his mind. When Alfred reached him, he placed the bucket at his feet and grabbed a sponge that was bobbing on top of the murky water. This was the best that Alfred could find that with all of the baths and fountains being destroyed. Luckily, he was able to find a nearby water supply and grabbed a nice, big bucket load to clean up the frail Asian with. He got on a knee again and wrung the sponge through his black, leather gloves before looking back up at Japan's discoloured face. Where to start? He gulped and used his sleeve to wipe away the sweat on his damp forehead. He knew this was going to sting- from experience, of course- after all those times Arthur had to clean his cuts when he was a child. But this was definetly different. There was a deep gash on the left side of Japan's forehead that spouted out thick strings of crimson, being probed by his hair which stuck to the innards of his red flesh. It was as if his injuries hadn't begun to heal over the entirety of the month. They were bound to be infected. _Guess I know where first._ However, before Alfred could even move the sponge towards the Japanese man's face, he was interrupted by a small hand which grabbed onto his.

"Huh? What is i-- J-Japan?" Alfred asked as his eyes followed along Japan's arm then reaching his face which glared at him with dull, brown eyes. As their eyes met, America felt his sponged hand recede without his full control, subconsciously deciding that it was a good idea not to attempt applying it to the Asian just yet. The way Japan looked down at him, it made the blond tremble uncomfortably where he knelt.

"Don't.." He saw the word leave Japan's lips and Japan's glare intensified, "D-Don't touch me. I don't want your hel-" His plea was interrupted by a strangled cough that spluttered blood onto the face of the American below him, making him freeze in disgust. As Alfred attempted to wipe his pale cheeks and forehead of the blood, he felt it smear across his face. He removed his glasses to see the crimson inked over the spectacles. He felt his nose wrinkle, then replied,

"No way. You clearly need help; you're literally inches from dying." His voice was sincere enough to make gain a confused "huh?" from Japan. By this point, Alfred could tell that there was no way Japan and he could be on good terms, especially this close to the previous war, but that didn't mean he was going to leave him in this state. The guilt from bombing him was already eating him up inside and he couldn't handle the thought of Japan having to suffer any longer.

Japan may have been stubborn, but Alfred could hold his ground just as well as him. They were both brutally aware of this.

Not wasting any more time, Alfred forced the damp sponge to Japan's forehead, making the Asian's fingers curl from the unexpected touch on his raw flesh. He kept in place for about half a minute, allowing the water to seep into the wound, before Japan had had enough of it. The Asian sat up and flicked the sponge from Alfred's grasp, flinging it to one of the opposite corners in the room. They both watched as it absorbed the thick, murk of a tar pool it landed in and sank into the liquid as a matching black lump. America clenched his fists in irritation as it did.

"Damn it." He whispered under his breath as he turned back to face Japan, "Are you really going to be this difficult?" From the way Japan frowned at him, he could tell that that was exactly how he was going to remain.

"I t-told you. I can take care of myself. I don't need help from anyone, least of all you." Japan's breathing wasn't stabilizing and the more he tried to talk, the more Alfred feared he'd soon pass out again. He could've easily picked Japan up and forced him into the nearby pond where he found the water, but the way Japan's posture sank on the stool - Alfred knew that even a gentle nudge would have probably been enough to snap one of his thin bones like a twig. He didn't want to inflict any more pain onto the poor country but he was well aware that leaving him there to rot would've been worse. After looking down to contemplate for a while, Alfred eventually peered back up at Japan to say,

"I don't care- I'm helping you right now, whether your noble, Japanese ass accepts it or not. So think whatever you damn want because all the countries need you up and well. If you die... because of _me_ to specific! Then who knows what the others-"

"So that's why you're here, America-san." Japan sounded almost relieved, relieved that he could give himself one more reason to want Alfred to piss off. One more out of the list of hundreds he'd already mentally made. But it was clear to see that he was mostly upset at the whole matter. Upset that his old "homie" wasn't actually here for him but instead, here to make sure Japan was ok for his precious reputation alone. _What a dick._ "Please, just go. I'd rather die than say I got mercy from the man who has already destroyed my nation. Unlike you western countries, I have a pride that I wish to maintain. I've already surrendered- you have no reason to be here." His voice monotone as he said this, clearly trying to uphold a stern appearance, but wobbled as he spoke. He couldn't hide his true, despondent feelings.

 _Liar._

Japan glared Alfred directly in the eyes as he said this; a familiar glare that had set the blond back for weeks now. A glare that took him straight back to the battlefields a month before, where Japan and he stood metres apart and broken. It had polluted his every thought, every dream, every moment he even dared to think about the raven-haired island nation. But, this time, something about the look in Japan's eyes felt different; they weren't as sharp. Weren't as cold. Was this the same stare that haunted the American every day since the war? Was this, truly, the sight that scared him into every panic attack? Every time he cried and wished away the day he bombed his old friend's home?

_He's a damn liar._

It _was_ the look in Japan's eyes that inked every corner of Alfred's brain, that much was true. But, the more he gazed into the depths of brown and ebony black, the more he realised that the way the Asian looked at him, that accursed day, wasn't out of pure disgust or hatred. Wasn't through the eyes of someone who anticipated to sink his teeth into him and rip him apart. It was out of fear.

Japan looked at him, that day Alfred bombed him, in fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally think I didn't write this well enough but MEH. I started it like 5 days ago so I'm happy I could at least FINISH the damn chapter. (oml, it's like 1 am as I write this plssendhelpimdyingandinneedofemergencyhelpahh (also I hate all British timezones))
> 
> Sorry, there wasn't that much interaction between Kiku and Alfred this chapter (I tried to fit quite a lot in at the end). I promise the next chapter will have a lot of it between them - good or bad; I'm also planning on it to contain a meeting with the other allies so... I'm not sure how long it will be (tho idk how certain I am on the last part). ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Anyway thxbye'n'kisses!


	2. I am America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> America knows he’s going to be staying at Japan’s house for a while so he asks Canada to pretend to be him at the meeting. Canada's reluctant to take on the job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Oh! A wild Canada has appeared.~~
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I'm so so happy this chapter wasn't deleted and so SO sorry I forgot to continue this work :'(
> 
> I decided to shorten this chapter (a lot) and leave all the AmeriPan interactions to the next one since this one is already quite long.
> 
> I promise with all my heart that they'll be a shit-ton of angst next chapter. And I mean ALL sort of messed up jazz and reveals. So, be ready :>

Canada picked up a small brush on the side of his dressing table and began to stroke the soft, white fur on his pet polar bear, Kumajirou. As he did, he paid close attention to every hair on her body, making sure she looked tidy and well-kept. The blond didn't really have anything else to do. It's not like people came over often. Usually, on days like this, he spent most of his time showing affection to his small companion and sorting out things around his house. However, that day, as he continued to draw the brush through the thicks of Kuma's fur, he noticed a sharp noise coming from the other room. On immediate instinct, poor Canada started to panic; he felt the brush slip from his hands and hit the ground with a clang. Kuma's favourite brush too. She'd normally be mad, of course, if she only actually knew who Canada was...

But that ringing noise? Was it an alarm? Had someone broken in? OH GOD! Not another polar bear attack!

He grabbed ahold of Kuma and wrapped his arms around the miniature bear, holding her close to his chest before making any sudden movements. He just stood there for a while, hoping the annoying sound would pass... It wasn't passing. Kuma looked up at the trembling Canadian and, almost out of annoyance, said,

"What's that noise?" Her voice was just as cute as her small puppy-like face and black, button eyes and it was enough of a warm sight to make Canada smile, a clearly very scared smile when he looked down at his friend in his grasp.

"I-I-I'm not so sure- But I should probably go check it out, eh?" He finally replied after looking back up towards the direction of the sound, yet still maintaining to stroke Kuma. He really didn't want to go and see what was ringing but it seemed like he had no choice. After all, there was no one else in his home at the time, so either he did it, or he'd have to sit in his room with that irritating noise all day.

And look like a wimp in front of his baby polar bear.

"I agree," Kuma nodded and Canada left his room to creep down to where the noise was coming from, "Also, who are you again?". Canada didn't reply. He was too focused on finding the room that was producing the ringing sound. The closer he got, the more he realised that it definitely wasn't his alarm. It was coming from his office a few rooms down from his bedroom. As he opened the door, he tensed up in surprise- It was his phone. Wait- he had a phone?

"...Oh?" He was almost shocked when he saw his landline ringing on his desk next to his stack of newspapers and books. He never really received any calls- in fact, he barely made any himself to be honest. The black shine on it was reduced to a dull grey from all the dust that had accumulated onto it and he swore the last time he checked, it was broken. It was a gift from England for his birthday but after realising that he didn't really use it at all, he decided it would be best to move it to his office which was a place he also barely used. He grabbed the handset in an instant, filling with relief as the atrocious noise came to a sudden halt but then immediately felt anxious again when realising he'd have to actually have a conversation with someone on the phone. Of course, another thing he hadn't done in quite some time. He placed Kuma on a small table beside the desk then slowly, he lifted the receiver to his ear and waited for someone to say something on the other line.

And waited.

"Maybe- it's just a prank call?" He looked towards his pet bear for some assistance, but it simply shrugged in response. Breathing out his choked up breath in a newfound ease, he started to put the handset back in place on the body of the landline. It's not like he was really looking forward to speaking to anyone anyway. But then he heard,

"Canada? Are you there, bro?" roared through the speaker, even making Kuma jump. _So close._ Although he wasn't exactly happy that someone was actually on the other line of the call, he was a little more relieved that it was a familiar voice. He lifted the phone back up to the side of his face and said,

"Yes, i-it's me, Canada. Uhm- A-Are you ok, Al?" He felt his voice shake on its own. As much as he wanted to try to sound stern, especially to his older brother who usually did nothing but one-up him and get him into trouble with other countries, he just couldn't do it while on the phone. That combined with the suddenness of the call just made him quite jumpy.

"Uh, soo.. I know that I can get you in a little bit of trouble at times-" Well, Canada knew where this was headed. Of course, he did; what an idiot. There was no other reason for someone, above all America, to take the effort to actually _call_ him unless they needed something or expected him to do something for them.

"But, I really need your help, dude." To his surprise, Canada could actually hear a tinge of worry in voice. In that moment, he realised that America may have genuinely been in trouble and decided that he'd listen to what he had to say.

"Well, w-what do you need?" There was a brief pause before America answered Matthew's question. The silence made him slightly regret offering his help. Poor Canada- always quick to sort other's problems out when barely anyone ever helped him with his own. In the silence that got caught between the two North American countries, the Canadian had a lot of time to decide whether he should just back out then and spare himself the trouble, or help his brother. It was a hard decision that made the situation they were both in seem even more awkward. Canada turned back to look at Kuma once again but the bear simply shrugged at his silent plea for guidance. He was always like that; he always used Kumajirou as support or a beacon of hope in the times he couldn't think for himself. She may have forgotten who he was most of the time, but she always gave great advice and usually was the reason for things he did going right. The fact that even _she_ didn't know how to respond proved that Canada was screwed from the moment he chose to pick up the phone.

_N-No. I'm a grown country! I don't need the help of a small bear AND I don't have to take this from my bro! That's it- I'm going to say no to Alfred and stand on my own two feet for once!_

He truly believed that he could say no to America's request. He puffed up his chest and cleared his throat. Yes, this would finally be that he-

"Ahem. Actually America, I just realised-"

"I need you to pretend to be me at the next World Meeting..." ...Wait, what? Canada stood there, frozen. His mouth still open from speaking, but the sudden interruption from Alfred was enough to keep it stuck in place. Kuma sat there staring at him, waiting for him to at least give some sort of reaction. She may not have been able to hear the call, but she could definitely see in Canada's trembling body that some shit just went down. She stood up onto her four, tiny paws and waddled her way over to the edge of the table where she could nudge the country with her nose. No response. Something was _definetly_ up. Lack of attention from her extremely affectionate owner was enough of a red flag to her. She instead drew her notice towards the speaker of the phone besides Canada's ear.

Whoever was on the other line, America was it? They were definitely speaking. Maybe Canada was shocked because of what he was being told-?

"So, what I'm getting at is, you're at Japan's-" Canada finally starts as he slowly comes back from his paralysed state, driving Kuma's head to tilt slightly in confusion, "-And... you need me to pretend to be you at the World Meeting so that the others-" There was some commotion on the other line. "Ok ok! So that _England_ doesn't find out what you did." At this point, Canada's skin was as pale as the snow falling outside the walls of his home. This was NOT something he wanted to get involved in, especially if it involved toying with his relationships with the other allies. Sure, he may have played a part in the war, helping out England and stuff, but the last thing he wanted to do was get between whatever Alfred and Japan were up to. He'd already had to deal with more than enough trouble from getting mistaken for being Alfred. Now he was going to put himself through the same trouble again, _willingly_. Kuma was thinking the same as Matthew at that point. Of course, the only logical thing he could and HAD to say was--

"Alright. I'll do it."

. . .

 _Welp. Canada's screwed._ Kuma had already accepted that Canada was a lost cause.

"B-But, I hope you realise that for next time, I really don't.." A sharp beep cut the phone call short, leaving Canada to stand there in his own puddle of self-sorrow. He placed the phone back in its original position then sighed, a long sigh, heavy with regret. His violet eyes slowly made their way up to meet Kuma's, looking for the bear's response to the situation Canada had just put himself into. Nothing. He knew the sassy polar bear had _something_ to say, she was just avoiding it.

"...K-Kuma? How should I go about this, eh?" Canada was prepared to heed whatever was being offered. However, instead of giving some "life-saving advice" as the Canadian would've referred to it as, Kuma merely tilt her and replied,

"Who are you?" Canada felt his heart sink until it reached the pits of his stomach. _Then?_ She had to forget who he was right _then?_ He sighed once more, adjusted his glasses and then grabbed the soft, plush of a bear. As he left the office, he buried his head in her cool fur, admiring the handiwork of his grooming that left Kumajirou smelling like a flower mid-Spring. That was a thought that could put his mind at ease. And it did.

"You never answered my question." That was a first. Kuma was actually pondering on that. But then again, it was also the first time Canada chose not to respond. He was tempted but at the time, saw no real reason for constantly having to remind her who he was. If she didn't know, that was that... Or not.

"I'm Canada, Kuma. Always have been, always will be." There was a bit of irritation in the tone of his voice, but he answered her in the nicest way he could. Even if he wasn't the one causing trouble, he still wouldn't be able to live himself if he hurt his only true friend's feelings.

"Are you sure about that, Alfred?" The Canadian stopped walking so that he could hold out the bear that was wrapped around in his arms and get a good look at her. Did she really just call him _Al?_ He didn't want to take it personally but he couldn't help it. After years of being confused with his older brother, it really got to him. Now, his only companion was doing the same as everyone else? It made the poor Canadian feel like weeping all over her. "Because the last time I checked, you were America."

Too late, the tears were running. "What makes you think that I'm America, for Pete's sake, eh?" he felt the words come out harsher than expected, making him quickly close his mouth with his reaction to his own words. That gave him a while to really think about what Kuma was saying.

He finally got it.

"Y-You're right..." Canada brought the bear back into another hug, "I am America." He felt Kuma purr with accomplishment which made himself beam back. "Yeah, that's right! I'm America!" He started chanting as stormed down the halls of his house towards his bedroom. He thought he was ready to take on the task of becoming a superpower... or at least, pretending to be one. Poor Canada, if only he knew what exactly Alfred had done to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rlly feel sorry for Canada in this one ngl. Given so much stress by his older bro. My bby.. ;-;
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading; I really appreciate it. This is my first fanfiction and considering that it's on a basically dead fandom, I'm surprised I got the amount of love that I did so tysvm :D
> 
> thanksbye'n'kisses


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